


Make Him Fly

by sun_incarnate



Series: The Divine, Once Again [4]
Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Eric as Hermes, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Major Character Injury, Temporary Amnesia, Volleyball, a sports injury, there are other skz members but only chan has lines so im tagging only him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:40:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25902205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sun_incarnate/pseuds/sun_incarnate
Summary: Another piercing shrill, their captain aiming for a serve that's honed to be more of a spike and not receivable. A serve that had never disappointed them, no records of misses dirtying its record. Hyunjun counts the seconds passing before the serve, trusts wholeheartedly and maybe a little bit too much. And there's a practice-hardened palm hitting rubber, then a loudness unnamed, then a thud, then Eric falling, Eric falling, Eric falling then unmoving—
Relationships: Heo Hyunjoon | Hwall &; Son Youngjae | Eric
Series: The Divine, Once Again [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783480
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	Make Him Fly

**Author's Note:**

> **Don't copy, repost, and don't translate without permission.**
> 
> \- HERMES was the Olympian god of herds and flocks, travellers and hospitality, roads and trade, thievery and cunning, heralds and diplomacy, language and writing, athletic contests and gymnasiums, astronomy and astrology. 
> 
> (i know this seems too much to cover, but you'll know which aspect of his godhood i'll be focusing on!)
> 
> As a new-born infant Hermes snuck out of his crib, stole the cattle of the god Apollon, and crafted the first lyre from a tortoise-shell. Zeus was so amused by the young god's antics that he granted him a place as one of the twelve supreme gods of Olympos. [The myth.](https://www.theoi.com/Olympios/HermesMyths.html#Theft1)  
> \- [Source.](https://www.theoi.com/Olympios/Hermes.html)

_An entire side of the stadium sings names that aren't theirs even though he knows that somewhere there are those that cheer for them, and Hyunjun can feel the tips of his fingers start to go prickling with exhaustion._

_Just as expected, with what amount of times they've set balls into the air, into waiting spiker palms relying on the dependable strength of him being the official setter._

_They're playing one more set against a team whose name Hyunjun can't recall at the moment, just knowing that the blue and white of their uniforms on the other side are cresting seas threatening to swallow them whole, his head full of strategies and setter signals and accuracy accuracy_ do anything for accuracy do anything for the team do anything to win.

_He's positioned beside the net, sideways and body's posture tensed ready, not looking but aware all the same of the blockers and opponents on the other side that follow his teammates with focused eyes._

But no matter how much they focus _, Hyunjun thinks as he brings up arms in position to set, ball falling above him and the pounding of running hastened steps he hears loud as the blood roaring in his ears,_ they could only hope to catch up to him _._

_Meters away and parallel to the net, Eric jumps up with eyes looking forward, always forward and trusting that the ball would appear right before his hand at the exact moment his arm swings to spike._

_And it does, it does,_ who would I be if I'm not to grant you this?

_Hyunjun, true to the moniker his teammates had taken to calling him with, tenses to be the bow that draws back as he delivers the ball to Eric's already swinging arm, an arrow set and let loose to kill whatever defenses the opponents may have put up._

_The ball lands uninterrupted in its course, a score taken from the other side, an exclamation sharp through chants of their name, echoing riding the sound of cheers from everywhere; and along with those echoes is a beaming smile before the sight of it's lost at a turn of the head._

_The white mark of 12 at the back of Eric's jersey is stark against the black and red of the fabric, showing so clear that the image of it is stamped in Hyunjun's mind._

_A clap on Hyunjun's back, on Eric's back, on their whole team's, an immediate huddle at the step they take closer to victory._

_Another piercing shrill, their captain aiming for a serve that's honed to be more of a spike and not receivable. It's racked up plenty of scores for them, previous matches unable to receive the solidity of its sheer power._

_A serve that had never disappointed them, no records of misses dirtying its record. Hyunjun counts the seconds passing before the serve, trusts wholeheartedly and maybe a little bit too much._

_And there's a practice-hardened palm hitting rubber, then a loudness unnamed, then a thud, then Eric falling, Eric falling, Eric falling then unmoving—_

And he stumbles from where Hyunjun's grabbed the back of his shirt, a breath away from where a speeding car was just about to hit him.

Eric looks back at him, eyes wide and a little bit of disbelief coloring his face along with the flush that starts creeping up from his neck. As if he can't quite believe that the world isn't used to his unpredictability, isn't used to the overwhelming confidence he has whenever he moves. 

Maybe he's forgotten of the world's way, like he did everything else.

"Thanks, Hyun-ah. How'd you know the car's there, by the way? I didn't even hear it." Hyunjun shrugs back an answer, not really knowing how he did.

He does that most of the time, though unintentionally. He'd only be consciously aware of his hypersensitivity and attunement to his surroundings when he's on-court.

Fixing the collar of his shirt from where it's gotten ruffled, Eric beams back up at Hyunjun and continues his talk about recalling the ways with which a setter could have broken any wall of blockers on the other side of the net.

Right. Volleyball.

He knows of this fleeting temporariness, knows that Eric will regain every memory he's had as the time goes by, but it doesn't stop Hyunjun from aching. 

"Why d'you love volleyball so much? You've never really told me why." 

_"Ask him questions, from before. It might help him remember faster,"_ the doctor had said.

Eric has amnesia, though temporary and was predicted to be gone after a few days. Hyunjun was there the day Eric had been discharged, a friend welcomed as a relative by the family.

And he's been trying ever since, always asking questions that have obvious answers and even clearer reactions to. Everything's a limbo of déjà vu, and the feeling of not-quite-awareness makes him antsier. 

The doctor had advised to ask for answers that they already know, so that in case of a mistake they could correct him, and while Eric hadn't even once told him the exact reason why, Hyunjun already knows of the answer, had seen it with his own two eyes, had realized _why_ the same moment Eric had chosen to follow the ball up in the air and fly. All those years ago, all ages passing fast as the speed of the quick they've mastered and made _theirs._

The wings Eric had painted on the ankles of his converse highs wrinkle with every step he takes, and Hyunjun's reminded of a messenger god, flying above ancient lands with ankles winged.

All of his childhood he'd spent fascinated at images from books, the old volumes from libraries his earliest friends. He'd first been drawn in by the fabrics of the characters' clothes, feeling such deep longing while looking at the garbs, all woven with stars and moonlight silver-gold against glowing skins. Before long he'd started reading _why_ they're dressed like that, and is neck-deep into mythologies when he's realized what he's doing.

He'd left that hobby when he started sports with Eric, but although it's been years since he'd last read myths it's still a wonder how he's only thought of the comparison now, in this moment when Eric's so human and _just Eric._

Now when the extraordinary of his being on-court has faded to just a spark in his eyes, now when he's tripping over wayward rocks and Hyunjun would have to be quick to catch a flailing arm before he falls to the ground.

He'd read somewhere before of the old gods, who he'd once thought of as beings of magic instead of divinities then he'd understood that he got it the other way around, who he remembers now when he doesn't even know why. 

_Maybe it's in the way he moves, maybe it's in the wings I see whenever he jumps and tries to fly._

Hyunjun is reminded of Eric's flight, then his fall, then his unconscious form pale against blank hospital sheets.

_But is it really? It can't be as simple as that._

"Don't know, Hyun," his eyebrows pinch together, the words coming out like mumbles uncharacteristic of him. He must have realized that this is just another one of the exercises to help him remember, because his lips are a pout reluctantly letting go of, "Can't remember. Maybe the adrenaline." 

A thoughtful pause. Hyunjun's hand is still holding his arm and he's also still fighting the urge to just wrap it around shoulders. "Yup, must be. Can't think of any other reason." 

And he accepts it, saying that Eric's mentioned it countless of times before. A chance, an opening, his hand comes up to ruffle the other's hair, which falls to wrap around shoulders once it's been swatted away after a smile had grumbled complaints for keeping up appearances and messy hairs.

_The game's timer is stopped by yet another buzz, crowd murmurings a loud noise in Hyunjun's ears._

_Their coach gets up from the bench, their manager on the phone speaking frantic, and Hyunjun wants to tell them_

_—_ It's alright, it's fine, he's just slipped is all—

_But when he looks down…_

_When he looks down he sees the way Eric's breathing had turned shallow, eyes closed and limbs all sprawled out in careless angles courtesy of his fall._

_Hyunjun's frozen in his spot, robbed of breath as he struggles to process everything through the haze of adrenaline the match has given him._

_Paramedics rush through their side of the court, one of them carrying a first-aid kit. Eric's head is lifted from the floor and the person checking him calls out. A cervical collar fitted around his neck, they carry him on a stretcher then out the stadium._

_Hyunjun's still just standing, not processing the loss of a teammate during the game's nearing end._

_Their captain, the one who served the ball to the back of Eric's head, is substituted out. He's sitting on the bench on the verge of crying, but the game resumes with no regard to his mistake._

_Hyunjun hopes that the injury isn't anything serious, just a minor concussion or something Eric can bounce back easy from, and he's adjusting everything in his gameplay and slowing down to match the tempo of everybody else._

None of them are as fast as he, none a match when he brings out the best of me; _He sets normal quicks and signals with his hands rather than a knowing glance, arrow-pinpoint focus blurring as he's trying to concentrate and forget that image of—_

Eric shrugs away the arm around his shoulders, holding Hyunjun's hand instead to drag him.

The pace he's set as they've passed the university gates is unforgiving, so Hyunjun doesn't have the chance to ask why of the sudden run. 

The air is cold as they go on, the sun not out so in this gloomy weather it feels like winter's starting early. Though the run helps warm his body, Hyunjun can feel the air nipping at exposed skin, colder as the sun hides from the world, like it's got a personal grudge on them this particular morning.

A hundred or so steps later, they arrive before the gymnasium's side door panting.

They don't have the keys for the main doors, so they're entering by the locker rooms. Hands on his bent knees, Hyunjun attempts to catch his breath before reaching for the keys to the door, rummaging deep inside his bag. 

Then he remembers that he forgot to ask for it from their captain, forgot to notify the other team members that Eric would finally be practicing with them again after a week of absence for recovery.

Both of them are early, hoping to have some hours to themselves so Eric could get to familiarize himself with the place before the others arrive at the normal time for their practice, a couple of hours from now.

He turns to him, apology ready on his tongue, but when he looks to he sees Eric already at the door, fiddling with something.

When Hyunjun comes close, he sees a thin metal pin held by Eric's fingers, inserted into the keyhole and twist-turning. He almost laughs at the concentration on Eric's face, jaw clenched and lips pouting as he tries the doorknob.

"Ric-ah, come on, we're not in movies. Let's just wait here, I'll text the hyungs—" 

Something like a click cuts him off, the doorknob twisting open, Eric smug as he opens the door wider to make Hyunjun step in first. Raising a fist to threaten Eric with as a joke, Hyunjun passes him and sets his bag on one of the benches inside the room. 

They change to thinner clothes, Hyunjun quizzing Eric for _Who uses which locker most_ , _Who was that senior who hid racy magazines here before and got caught_ , and when they finish they stuff their things to the empty lockers of the room, only taking their phones, knee pads, and water bottles with them to the court.

Practice with Eric, as had been this past week, consists of a schedule set by Hyunjun himself.

The first thing they do is work on stretches, taking their time with it now that the weather's colder and they're more likely to injure themselves and overtire muscles if they don't do it properly.

Eric had been a bit stiffer when they first did it, joints sore as he was rushed to the hospital immediately when he was still in the middle of the match when the accident happened.

Then next would be practicing Eric's receives, adding more repetitions as they go through days. Today would be fifteen consecutive ones, Hyunjun spiking at him in differing directions so Eric would be forced to cover a whole of the marked courtside. 

Then, lastly, serves come as the usual from Eric. Which is to say, he still serves the same, his technique the simplest as what he'd spent time perfecting was his team play and spikes in mid-air battles.

They don't have anybody else, but they still try practicing his spikes. Requiring another person to toss the ball to Hyunjun, they'd recruited Eric's sister to do it over the week, practicing at the court nearest to their homes.

Eric does it this time, but Hyunjun wanted another person so he could practice his running approach more, try to remember the pace that he uses for it, so him practicing tossing feels a bit like too much work.

They spend their time like that, Hyunjun watching out for changes in Eric's play now that he can only still remember little details.

His body seems to recall the usual way he moves though, his play deeply-ingrained in his body which just proves that Hyunjun really won, from that one time their seniors had made a bet about whether Eric intentionally moves like that or if everything's just pure instinct at this point.

Taking a break because they've spent most of their two hours already and the others are bound to show up any minute now, Hyunjun sits beside Eric on the floor, where he's staring off the distance while holding a ball in his hands.

He's gripping it tight, hands splayed as if to encage it.

Hyunjun catches him always like this during his recovery, the frequency increasing as the days pass, the silence of him so true it unnerves Hyunjun sometimes when they're in the same room and there's no kind of noise coming from the other.

And true to schedule, the main door to the gymnasium opens, their captain holding the keys in his hand as the others wait behind him.

They're telling him to hurry up, wanting to start warming their bodies. Eric stands up first with Hyunjun following suit, everybody else surprised at the sight of them already sweaty at such early time.

There's a few tense seconds of silence before reprimands break the ice of the first meeting after a while, their captain embracing Eric as he worries over the state of his health, _Eric I swear, you guys just had to choose a cold day to get on ahead with practice._

Everybody else scatter to stretch, on their way patting Eric on the shoulders as they ask him questions about themselves, favorites and dislikes and repeating already laughed-at jokes from before. He answers most of them easy, already remembering almost everything after a week spent with Hyunjun quizzing him.

Hyunjun pulls another teammate and asks him to toss for them, so that they could practice some more. Hyunjun tells him of their routine now that they've got the others with them, and he walks away to position himself beside the net.

He spies Eric giving the ball to the other's hands, not forgetting the tight grip he had on it earlier.

_"What's this?" Hyunjun turns the box over with his hands._

_Eric has just exited his house, a quick dash outside so his mother wouldn't have the chance to change her mind about him staying out again._

_He's handed Hyunjun a rectangular box, like the ones for gifts. It even has a little ribbon on top._

_Hyunjun's birthday isn't until the next year, Christmas and New Year still a couple months away._

_"Don't know, just something I found on my desk inside. Don't look at me like that!" he says, defensive when Hyunjun turns to him with a raised eyebrow, "I told you, I just saw that on my desk. It had a paper under, your name written on it."_

_Hyunjun knows Eric would write most things so he wouldn't be able to forget them in the speedy way his mind moves, but what does intrigue him is why and what for. But he probably didn't remember what though, and he'd given it to Hyunjun taking the chance that maybe_ he'd _know why._

_"So you gave this to me?" Eric nods, burrowing his face in the folds of his scarf and effectively covering his mouth._

_His ears though, aren't hidden. Hyunjun sees the tips turning redder by the second, blames it on the cool breeze blowing past them._

_He ignores the urge to warm them up with his hands._

_"Did you even look for what's inside? Maybe if you saw it you'd remember something."_

_Hyunjun knows he didn't, the question more suggestion than inquiry, judging by the unwrinkled neatness of the ribbon's silk. Eric, though skilled with his fingers, can't craft this cleanly._

_They're walking to Hyunjun's house, a few streets away from Eric's._

_They've decided to review techniques and positions and watch manager-filmed matches and practices they've played before, as to familiarize Eric with their team's gameplay._

_They're both regulars, so now that Winter Qualifiers' approaching they'd have to be on the top of their game again._

_Not that they ever weren't, but it's better to play on the safer side. The faster Eric remembers, the closer they are to winning._

_His presence alone sets stadiums abuzz,_ That Number 12, Son Youngjae, _they'd whisper about him. He deserves the recognition of players from other schools, with what exemplary plays he executes on-court._

_Taking the lid off the box, Hyunjun hands it to Eric so he could take the bracelet that's nestled atop folds of shiny cloth._

_He hands the box to Eric too a moment later, putting the bracelet on his palm to inspect it._

_It's beautiful, the chain of it a link of individual little stones that seem to shimmer even in the weak sunlight of the morning._

Like little stars _,Hyunjun thinks. They're connected by a thin thread of silver, until the pattern breaks as it ends to hold the charm that weighs it down._

_It looks to be a crescent moon, Hyunjun judges, a silver shine glinting against the pinked skin of his palm. When he touches a finger to feel its smoothness, it glows a little, the silver turning to a brighter white._

_It's gone in a flash though, as he detaches his finger quick in surprise. So, dismissing it as light just reflecting on the metal, Hyunjun turns to Eric, jokingly shoving his shoulder, "Where'd you get this? Yah! Son Youngjae, you spend too much money on ice cream to save up."_

_Knowing that Eric knows he's only playing with that, Hyunjun looks to the moon charm again, the former coldness of the metal now warming up to touch._

_He's feeling nostalgic all of a sudden, then hyperaware of everything that surrounds him. It confuses him, because he'd only be this sensitive when he's in-game and forcing himself to focus._

_But now, he hears the tumble of every stone that their shoe-clad feet kick away in their steps, the winds whispering louder in his ears._

_There's a distant call of a raven, an indignant caw that just begs to be heard, and Hyunjun ends up wondering why he knows what they sound like._

_He puts it back into the box that Eric hands him, settling the bracelet back to the ruffled cloth. He places it with utmost care, somehow not wanting to move it too much._

_There's a weight to it; when he'd held it he felt like he's holding something much more than a simple bracelet._

_"If you can't remember why you planned to give this to me, then maybe you should still keep it." He says, handing the box back to Eric. The ribbon of it is now tied in simple knot, so different from the pretty curves of it earlier._

_"Give it to me when you remember, but only if it_ is _for me, m'kay?"_

_Eric stuffs it back in his messenger bag, between the sleepwear he's brought for the sleepover. "Won't be long now."_

_He looks at Hyunjun as he flips the canvas flap of his bag. "I remember most of the stuff we did. The only things I'm missing are the more detailed ones few days before the match."_

_He remembers the match, mostly because Hyunjun's told him everything. Then, as Hyunjun was recounting, he'd brighten up and close his eyes, saying he can recall things and visualize them with the help of Hyunjun's narration._

_"Think it's because you saw that somewhere and immediately thought 'Wah! Curve! Bow! Hyunjun-ah!' so you used up your weekly For-Ice-Cream savings?"_

_To which Eric scoffs at, ignoring Hyunjun's_ obviously hilarious _imitation of his voice, pace hurrying a beat faster now that Hyunjun's house comes into view. "Did that look like a bow to you, Hyun? That's a moon, idiot."_

_"Huh, idiot." Hyunjun catches up to him, snaking a cool palm to lay it against the nape of Eric's neck._

_He shrieks at the feeling, and Hyunjun's reminded of that birdcall earlier. "Pity, I bought_ tubs _of ice cream for tonight's marathon. Ha! Guess someone's having all four of them to himself tonight."_

_Eric's pace turns to full-speed, passing Hyunjun who's doing his best to power-walk._

_He laughs under his breath, and when he turns the key to the door of his house he allows himself to fake an annoyed pout, now that Eric remembers the fact that he's doing it only in playfulness._

_And maybe it's because Eric had said that it was probably meant to be given to him, when he's written his name to remember, but Hyunjun feels like the heaviness that suddenly weighs him down now that the bracelet has been hidden away is caused by so much more than that._

He remembers Eric using that same messenger bag today to bring his things, the straps of it decorated with an assortment of pins because _The canvas flap's smooth leather is never to be ruined even if I love to show off my pins._ As are Eric's words, of course.

Hyunjun's taken a water break, and in his absence Eric's bounded over to the liberos, asking for advice on how to improve his receives.

 _I should monitor his play, see if he's changed in his current state._ So Hyunjun takes his phone and searches the gym for anybody else, eyes darting across the open space.

He spots a few teammates, including Jeongin who's drinking water sitting next to Felix stretching at the sides. He notices their captain by the entrance, back to him, and Hyunjun goes near.

When he's steps away from calling his attention, Hyunjun realizes that there's another person, right outside.

"Nothing, Chan, we were there at your last game. Was just wondering, is all." The voice speaks, disembodied in the limited view Hyunjun has of the outside.

Their captain chuckles low, though the way he scratches at the nape of his neck shows his discomfort. "Then you must have seen how I made that grand mistake, hitting Eric's head with that serve."

Hyunjun can't say that it isn't entirely Chan's fault, it isn't his right to say so, but the way Eric earlier would double take at old jokes or recounted memories remains a painful reminder of his mistake. So he cuts in, knowing full well the rudeness of it but understanding that they couldn't have a captain who's at times still too scared to even look at them. 

"Hyung, can I ask for a favor?" he asks as he approaches, making sure to make his voice sound distracted so they wouldn't know that he's heard the last of their conversation. 

And they do stop, strangers coming into view as Hyunjun realizes that Chan's facing a couple just beyond the door. 

"Ah, hyung, sorry. Maybe later, then?" He asks, turning to Chan but not before bowing to the others in greeting. 

"No, it's fine, they just dropped by to ask something." Chan nods at them, and places names with a pointed finger when he introduces them as, "Changmin and Sunwoo, my friends from other departments."

Sunwoo, Hyunjun observes first, looks like he hasn't slept properly in a week. The red of his hair is bright under the afternoon sun, ruffled like he just got up from a sleepless night, and his skin is pale even through the tan it sports. He's blinking hard, making his eyelashes lay flat against his skin before the grey— _H_ _uh?_ Hyunjun double takes, but dismisses it at the second look. _No,_ brown _—_ of his eyes are refocusing.

The other, Changmin, makes Hyunjun somewhat antsy. He's been staring at him the whole time, his neck lengthening when he tilts his head as if to study Hyunjun. _He looks like a warm person_ , Hyunjun vaguely observes, his eyes a bright brown enough so that it looks like the color's blazing under the sun's light, _but he makes me nervous with all the staring._

Chan claps his hand and Hyunjun is pulled out of the trance. "Ah, manners, manners! This is Hyunjun–" Chan drapes an arm over his shoulders, and Hyunjun looks to him waiting–"or Hwall, as he likes to be called sometimes. He's our official setter." 

At the mention of Hyunjun's pseudonym, Changmin seems to perk up. "Bow?" 

To which he grins at, mouth spilling pride at the position he holds in the team.

It's a matter of no arguments, him being picked for the position as soon as they've finished their training camp over last year's summer. He's a sophomore and practically still new to the team, but he'd pinched in on last year's tournaments and did way better than what had been expected of him. 

He remained strong under pressure, and did sets with surprising power and cleverness that he'd brought them on the brink of victory. But he's still a substitute for their setter then, a senior who needed to rest for a few minutes before he'd be thrown back to the pit to finish the game. 

When their setter had graduated, Hyunjun learned that he was praised by his senior, telling their coach how it'd be wrong if Hyunjun isn't given the position in the vacancy of it once he's left.

So he was picked, choosing that name then, thinking of his sets as his arrows. And they've earned that title, he knows, his accuracy and sharp focus his very strengths.

"You've seen him play, right? He does all his sets with killer precision, especially with him and Eric's—Number 12—quicks," Chan explains, and Hyunjun colors at the praise.

Pawing at Chan's side to make him stop the praises, not in embarrassment but more for manners, Hyunjun invites the others inside.

 _There's nothing wrong with pride_ , he thinks, _long as there's something to back it up with._

He guides Changmin and Sunwoo to one end of the gym, a few feet away from the edge of the court, and hands Chan his phone.

"I was gonna ask you to record our plays today, hyung. I wanted to see if there are any changes." 

And their captain, understanding the intent behind it, goes to the sides. Hyunjun's glad that Chan's the one he's asking this favor from, knowing that he should be reminded that Eric's still able to play even if he's still yet to regain all of his memories. 

They've played a number of times before, despite the nervous fear still showing on the faces of Eric's family. They've taken long hard looks at the ball on Hyunjun's hands when he showed up on their doorstep not for the first time after the incident, asking for his friend and if they'd allow them to play.

Mrs. Sohn had been on the verge of refusing, Hyunjun sensing it way before she could open her mouth, but Eric had then rounded a corner coming from his room, and insisted that they'll be careful all the time.

When he got home with no new injuries and long hours into the night spent on talking about vaguely remembering things as he and Hyunjun played volleyball, his family had finally relented.

They know that they can't really hold Eric back anyway, and Hyunjun _is_ his oldest friend. They figured out that aside from them Hyunjun would be the only other person who'd help best in the speed of his recovery, so all throughout the week they played and made new memories atop Eric's still missing ones.

And when Hyunjun calls him now from where he's sitting on the floor with a thoughtful look as he's scrolling on his phone—as is a familiar scene of him these recent days—he bounds to him with the same level of energy and enthusiasm as before the incident.

So Hyunjun has faith in him, in them, in the sets they've made; he only hopes that Chan would see it too, and finally forgive himself.

Hyunjun calls for a few other teammates too, asking them to practice with the both of them in an impromptu three-on-three. To which they nod at, getting up and heading towards the court.

When there are three on the other side of the net, Hyunjun calls for Jeongin to join his team.

He spots the other team already retrieving a ball from the cart. "Eric-ah, how about we try that quick we did yesterday? Up for it?" 

"The practice one, or the quick for matches?" He raises an eyebrow at Hyunjun's offer, not even questioning the sudden change of routine in their practice.

So Hyunjun tilts his head to the side, returning the daring of Eric's eyes with his own before turning. "Just do what you feel like doing, no matter which one you choose."

They get in position, and Hyunjun stands beside the net rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

He knows without looking that Eric's still waiting on him, for clarification maybe. "Really _really_ , whichever one. I told you didn't I?" _Or does he still not remember?_

A whistle sounds, and the ball is tossed up in the air for a jump serve by the other team. He loses himself to the onset of adrenaline he feels, the rush that's constantly present in his body for every game he plays. 

"I'll always match you." 

Jeongin receives the serve cleanly, the smack of it against his arms signalling the game's true start a louder call than the whistle for the first serve. It goes up and curves, falling over to where Hyunjun is positioned. 

Somewhere on their side of the court he hears steps pounding. The sound of it familiar, he breathes in deep to concentrate.

 _Where are the blockers?_ Spread about and arms already up, marking Eric's movements anticipating his spike, thighs calves bodies tensed to prepare for the wall they will block him with.

Hyunjun braces himself to kill the block in an instant.

 _Where will the spiker jump?_ Where the block is at its weakest, a gap only Eric could see through, _a rift only I can sense_ , a crack in the defense that they don't realize they have so they couldn't think of patching it up.

Eric's favorite spot, his summit, the height of his spike already predictable in the countless times Hyunjun's tossed to him.

 _How fast is he, will the speed of the toss match the tempo of his approach, match the time of his jump?_ A quick, the tempo of this that Eric moves with the same as the one they do for matches. The one that startles blockers and teammates, startles audiences coaches startles the world.

No practice, no mercy; they don't need any of that now. 

They have no need for anything else but the usual ruthlessness of their play. This is a hunt in cold blood.

_I'll always match you._

And before Hyunjun knows it, the ball's already touching the palm of his hands.

He lets it go almost immediately, sure of the direction and the speed he tosses it with, already aware of the height and the exact position it will end up in, where Eric would meet it with the strength of his arm's swing as he spikes.

Hyunjun's hypersensitivity and astounding awareness of his body in moments such as this is what allows him to fine-tune the movements of his fingers, feeling every minute move they make for control as they let go of the ball.

The weight of it is still yet to be registered by Hyunjun's hands when it's already landed on the opposite side of the court.

Eric touches down, one foot followed by another. Hyunjun sees Eric's landing in achingly slow moments, time dragging as if to make up for everything that the speed of their play had stolen.

The blockers didn't even have the time to jump.

Hyunjun turns to look at Chan, finding him frozen as he remains focused on the screen of Hyunjun's phone.

His whole body is rigid, then the next moment the tense of his arms gives the same time a smile spreads splitting on his face.

"Hyung," Hyunjun calls to him, "You don't have to worry about anything."

He turns back and refocuses on the game, facing teammates who seem to be as relieved as their captain. They had already shifted to rotate and a whistle sounds off sharp, Eric tossing the ball for a serve.

Having Eric—whose quicks are still sharp as ever—is no guarantee of their path to victory, though, and Hyunjun takes note of the few mistakes he makes. Which would have looked ordinary so, the lesser number of members in this setup making them fill-in holes in their attacks and defenses.

But Eric's receives, which had been a little higher than average from before, are now reduced to normalcy. The dives he does are steps-late, and there are times when Hyunjun notices that he stares at the flying ball with too-keen focus so intense that he slows in his run. 

_He's too focused_ , Hyunjun thinks in the midst of their game, _he's too restless to pay attention to the game itself._

Which would have been a good thing, because that means Hyunjun could utilize that. But Eric's _too_ into tracking the ball with his eyes, as if to mark and own it for himself, and that unyielding attention Hyunjun knows is a hindrance to the game they're playing.

Though the astonishing thing, Hyunjun notices now that they're approaching the game's end, is that Eric seems to demand more from him.

There's nothing that he hears, no order nor plea to give more, but he feels it in the air nonetheless. It almost makes Hyunjun stumble once, noticing the uncharacteristic quiet of Eric, when during games he almost always used to exclaim loudly at points made.

And in his silence, Hyunjun feels his air even when he's at the back of their side. It's like an overwhelming pressure looming over him, like instead of hunter he's _hunted_ , and it breaks through the bubble of concentration he puts himself in.

He's lost in wonderment, because Eric's gotten even better, because even for everything else that had become a nudge bit worse in Eric's play it's like the time he's spent off of team practice is more reinvention than recovery.

One particular moment, their match point that has them playing more seriously than for the first parts of the set, Hyunjun's focus is broken by the lack of sound he hears.

He can't hear the sound of footfalls over the roar in his ears, the telltale of Eric's running approach gone.

It makes Hyunjun falter, broken out of his reverie and mind not keeping up to the sheer speed of everything, because suddenly Eric's posture is tensing as he prepares for a jump when the ball is still nowhere near Hyunjun's palms, steps inaudible when now there should have been a squeak from the rubber soles of his shoes.

The bottoms of his shoes leave the polished floor of the court and Hyunjun wishes feverish that the ball would drop faster. He looks up at its slow falling, and stretches his arms up in desperation to deliver it to Eric's already moving arm. 

The variation from his usual movements prior to a set makes the toss go awry, him using too much force in his distress to make up for the lost timing and speed. The power it carries makes it float heavily in the air, and it starts to fall inches from where it's supposed to.

Eric's eyes, which are usually seeing forward, looks at the ball that has failed to catch up to him. 

His arm, which was positioned to spike, is now brought back down in a flash, the extended length of it catching the ball easy in time. Eric drives the ball over the net with his fingers, the quick snap of his wrist unpredictable so that the blockers, who've jumped up for the power of his quick, are unable to catch it. They've tensed their bodies to block, but nothing had prepared them for the calm expertise Eric had covered Hyunjun's mistake with.

The ball falls and Eric lands. _25-24_ , the set theirs to take.

Their teammates come from everywhere to clap on Eric's back, happy and relieved that he's still playing like he used to.

It occurs to Hyunjun that this is the first time Eric's played in a match ever since he's taken a break, time spanning a week to recover. Hyunjun hears the faint call of Chan for a huddle, promising to treat them for dinner when they've finished today's practice. 

The team had dispersed, lightness in the air now that they've seen that nothing's fatally wrong. Hyunjun nears Chan to take his phone when he notices that Changmin and Sunwoo are now nowhere inside the gymnasium. _Must've focused too much, in-game sense blocking everything else._

"Hyun-ah, do you think—oh," Chan interrupts himself, noticing Hyunjun looking around, "Changmin and Sunwoo had to leave early, said they had to go meet someone, emergency.

Right after your first toss to Eric too, so they didn't get to see that thing he did at the last part. Shame, that's like, the highlight of this match." 

He hands Hyunjun his phone, and he knows what words will come out of his captain's mouth before he even opens his mouth.

So when Chan opens with, "Noticed something about Eric, haven't you?" he isn't so surprised. 

He nods an answer, not taken aback that Chan too has seen something different. His job as team captain, after all, involves looking at their plays and observing his members. So much so, in fact, that Hyunjun feels like he's molded to that responsibility so it's more of a trait rather than duty.

"It's like he's improved, but only for the quicks and spikes though. He's making the same minor mistakes for his receives as he did back in highschool."

Chan smiles at him in comfort, ever kind and worrying over them. "He'll remember to, in time. We just have to wait for it."

And he heads towards the court, calling for the others to play matches as practice, explaining that they'll be by themselves for a while as their coach attends a meeting. So they set up, and Hyunjun stays at the sidelines, thinking of the match he's just come from as he takes small sips of his water.

Eric plops down beside him, and without a word Hyunjun hands him his bottle. He grabs it and takes a long drink, eyes to the match that Chan's started on the court.

The noise of rubber shoes squeaking against the floor draws Hyunjun's attention, and he watches the gameplay of his other teammates, looking for details that'll help him support them better.

He knows that being the official setter means he's best suited for matches, an all-rounder that can match up to everyone on his side of the court. The difference in their styles and runs and _everything_ had been jarring at first, preferences of toss height and speed difficult to keep track of when he's just a sophomore.

He'd been so used to Eric's play, so matched to his movements that both of them needed no signals to know what the other wants.

A childhood spent with him bore almost similar interests, and with volleyball they just became more inseparable. Adjusting to make room for others had been difficult for Hyunjun.

So the sudden change in sets and spikes had almost broken him down, if not for the constant practice he's put himself into and sheer will to overcome the problem he's faced.

And now, he sees the mistakes of the other setters, minor in the grand scale of things but had Hyunjun been in their place he knows he would've changed the littlest of actions. 

A freshman sets to Chan low, and it makes Chan hold back on using the full spring of his jump. The ball almost gets caught by the block on the other side, but their captain's experience and years in the game thwarted it. He must've confused the toss style with Changbin's, another senior whose jump doesn't reach as high as Chan's. 

There are plenty of newbies in their team, drawn in by the fact that their university is one to attend finals for tournaments, seasonal or otherwise. Daily practice is implemented, to make up for their lack of experience. Hyunjun sees where they were panting lighter than they used to when they first played against the regulars, and it makes him proud of their improvement. They wouldn't lose their way even after the seniors graduate, he's sure of it.

Felix takes off in the air and lands a vertical spike, a style done best by him after a month of countless trials of it. Hyunjun had known him best during those times he's spent setting to him.

Eric beside Hyunjun cheers for him, loud at the flawless execution his close friend has worked hard to perfect.

And, just like that, Hyunjun's attention refocuses on him. 

He's fiddling with his knee pads, deft fingers searching for stray threads so that he may pull on them. That's an old thing he does, like he needs to have his hands occupied lest they wander and do something they shouldn't.

Hyunjun remembers a time when he'd found no loose thread on his shirt, so, where they were lain watching movies on Eric's room one night some time ago, Eric had reached for the hoodie Hyunjun's wearing and played with the strings of the hood.

He's good with things his hands can do, Hyunjun realizes, because he thinks back to the way he had picked the lock of the gym earlier. He didn't even know that Eric could do that, and there had been no talk of it so it looks like he's just known to do that at the moment.

His fingers are quick to move, fast to grab, and rarely still. Which is how he must have sent the ball for the last point of their match, a clever trick Hyunjun didn't know he's capable of as he's never thought to consider just how much control Eric has over his body.

Full control over one's own body is a skill that could come from constant practice to hone it, some taking years to master the ability.

But Eric, now that Hyunjun spends time to really think about it, seems to be a natural. He's able to move his body with ease, the joints that separate parts of his body posing no problem to him. This increases the level of athleticism he has, and makes him a player with good base and lots of potentialities. And this monstrosity of a talent is one that Hyunjun can utilize, sitting idle asleep when he isn't setting to him. 

It doesn't feel like he's being vain or egotistic, when he thinks about it. Hyunjun too sets better than some, something he knows more than anyone else, the sharpness of his sets so accurate that when the ball flies from setter to spiker it hardly takes more than a couple of seconds.

The quick he does with Eric takes a little over one, timed by their coach once to see just how _fast_ Hyunjun could tear apart opponent blocks.

And Eric, with his superior reflexes and extreme sense of game, is able to spike it with ease, hence the popularity of their duo even when their names aren't directly spoken by those who'd just known of them.

 _JustThose bloody crows, black and red jerseys, Number 12 and 03's quick_ surrounding them in whispers the moment they arrive on-court for an official match.

 _Bloody crows_ is a suitable name when in reference to them, he thinks to himself. Scavengers famished during battles, for victory and victory alone.

And what sticks to Hyunjun's mind the most, for every match that they play, is the hunger in Eric's eyes. He knows the sight of it intimately, that savage thirst for triumph he's aware that he mirrors with his own eyes. He knows of his job, his duty to the team, and he takes it seriously and to heart. Hyunjun hunts across fields of polished court-floors, calculating and grasping fast the tiniest cracks in the defenses of their opponents.

He takes great satisfaction in the fact that he's the one who rallies them into mid-air battles. Hyunjun likes it best when they wear their black jerseys; when he tosses, his teammates come flocking chasing after the ball.

And with the intent of his sets, the term _murder of crows_ had never felt more fitting.

Hyunjun started volleyball because of that moment, when Eric had first shown him what a spike looks like. He'd had another friend with him then, who tossed the ball carelessly in inexperience so it went sailing a little too far from where he's probably intended to toss it to.

But Eric then.

But Eric _flew_. Jumping high and marking the ball with that fierceness in his face stealing all of Hyunjun's focus.

So he'd been so driven-hungry then, wanted so strongly to be the one Eric could rely on. To set him a proper toss, to make him reach his summits; To see _that_ again, to feel his heart beat fast in both adrenaline and contentment in the fact that he's the antecedent of such grace and strength.

_Just so I_ _could make him fly._

The ball falls in a reverberating thud meters before them, and Hyunjun is made aware of the minutes he's spent staring. Eric's looking at him, most likely confused as to why he's being stared at. 

Hyunjun takes his bottle off of Eric's hands and drains it of the last drops. 

The game in front of them is nearing its end, Chan's team leading by five points from the other and three away from victory. Eric is antsy with anticipation beside Hyunjun, not stilling and holding all four strings of both their shoes with one hand while with the fingers of the other he plucks the strings.

No sound comes from it, of course, but the distracted way Eric picks at the strings makes Hyunjun let out a breath of laughter that dies soon to a quiet grin.

Eric too smiles, though he doesn't turn to show it to Hyunjun. He continues playing his makeshift harp to the background of the game's noises, Hyunjun pressing himself closer so he could play anchor and help the other be less fidgety.

Eric calms sudden still, looks to be lost in thought now that he has his hands occupied.

A whistle sounds off and Felix throws the ball up for the serve, the last round of the match starting as one team's already at match point.

The ball sails curving through the air, the smack of Felix's palm against the rubber of it echoing inside the gym the same time sunlight passes bright through the windows of the courtside, the one behind Hyunjun and Eric.

And Hyunjun feels him freeze up at that, body going rigid not even blinking. When he looks the warmth of the sun shaped square by the window is focused on Eric's back, glaringly bright against the fabric.

Focused, targeted by a deadeye, like it's marking him.

Eric gets up quick at that, the panicked move of his scrambling making it seem like he's afraid of the sun. Hyunjun starts to laugh at the action, but when Eric turns away to run quick towards the locker rooms he's got no choice but to follow, because the sudden oddness in his friend's behavior is now alarming to him.

When he arrives to the room, Eric's locker is already thrown open, messenger bag hastily uncovered and rummaged through. 

"What on _earth_ are you doing?" 

But Eric ignores him, eyes wide with what Hyunjun could recognize as panic. Though from what, he doesn't know, wanting to prioritize that but not being able to focus when as he's standing there he's figuring out why he feels his chest pound at the sight of it. 

A flash of silver glints, Eric taking something fast from deep inside his bag. The light of it is caught by Hyunjun's eyes, but he doesn't process its image as Eric's already heading outside, flying past the door. 

And what choice is given to him? Hyunjun follows Eric, who's already ahead of him by meters. He's running towards the field, though he stops right by the edge of it, putting a hand up against the bark of one of the trees that lines its edge.

He's looking all around, frantic and so nervous as he's still panting from his sprint. Hyunjun can hear him mutter under his breath, words disjointed through his gasps for air. _Found me. Serve to my head. Bracelet. Remember now._

And he mumbles something just a little louder, words that Hyunjun, even in his confusion, could hear clear.

 _That god. He's caught me again_ , he's saying. _He's probably shot that serve to kill me._

But Eric smiles, one that splits his lips in a mad grin that just throws Hyunjun into another state of bewilderment as he's still processing what Eric's said.

Wary of the sudden change in his behavior, Hyunjun forces him to stay still by a look. "Eric, what did you do?"

He shakes Eric's shoulders, when his glare had been ineffective, sensing the slight fear coming from the other even as he's now wearing that silly smirk on his face. It makes him look like he's crazed, like prey on the hunt who's thought that it's escaped the hunters but is staying vigilant even in the haze of its little victory.

Hyunjun's blood runs cold at the comparison, vision darkening at the edges and feeling wind on his skin.

When he closes his eyes to attempt to clear his mind, he swears he could _hear the sound of forests coming alive, all wind and rustling leaves all around him._

_He feels sharp cuts on his calves, knows and distractedly-aware that these are minuscule wounds caused by the thorned shrubs he knows he's running past of, the sound of hooved runs an echo in his ear as an animal escapes just meters beyond his line of sight._

_There's laughter behind him, of fellow hunters not fearing to sound off in their assurance of rule over the hunt._

_It's because they're with me,_ Hyunjun thinks to himself. 

_He draws back the string of the bow sudden in his hands, arrow pulled taught and marking its target. He feels the feathers slipping past his fingers as he lets go, the arrowhead piercing through everything as it finds its—_

"Hyun-ah, help me. Please, Hyunjun-ah, I know. I remember now." 

His eyes open and sees Eric standing before him.

But Hyunjun's still reeling from the adrenaline he's felt from _that_ , _whatever that is_. There's no bow nor arrow in his hands, no prey no hunt no laughter no _nothing._

He can't clearly hear what Eric's saying, the muddle of his mind still too thick to push past through. He grips Eric's shoulders tighter, unsteady on his own feet as he feels his thighs tremble at the speed he's demanded of them in his hunt, though he realizes that he's standing in the same position he had been before the vision has started. 

The sun glares brighter upon them through the leaves above, like it's hunted and finally found them, and when Hyunjun looks beyond the tree's shade everything's still bathed in the gloomy weather of this morning.

Scanning everything, he ends up looking at the people scattered all across the vast space of the field.

Most he does not recognize and pays no heed to, until he sees Changmin from the other side of the field, exiting the Arts Department building with someone Hyunjun doesn't know.

But the expression on the stranger's face is a quiet anger Hyunjun can see and recognize even in the distance _._

It's the fury hardening his facial features that makes Hyunjun try to imagine what he must've looked like if he's calm. And when he thinks of it, in his mind seeing unfurrowed eyebrows and a mouth not scowling, he realizes that if the stranger doesn't look so furious then he and Hyunjun would have looked a little like each other.

They're heading to where Hyunjun and Eric is. _What's gotten him angry this time?_

He starts at that, alert and back going rigid at the question he asked himself. 

That flash of silver he'd seen earlier at the locker room. _It can't be._

Eric's still unmoving before him, clutching something tight to his chest by a closed fist and eyes blown impossibly wide at the crime Hyunjun _now_ knows Eric's committed. 

Chan's serves historically had zero errors, not when he's perfected it years ago, so why had it strayed from the path that it usually takes? The ball had hit the back of Eric's head, dead center where his neck supports his skull, a bull's-eye hit with such precision that the doctor said Eric's miraculously lucky to have survived from it with nothing but temporary loss of memory as an effect, an underlying _You should have been dead_ heard by Hyunjun between the lines.

It's that same perfection and accuracy that now reminds Hyunjun of the way he sets. 

_Like it's been let go to strike, to pinpoint. To kill._

Eric, Hyunjun thinks, is all levels of mad to even _think_ of trying to do that to _him._

"Hyunjun-ah. I think I've stolen something important from him."

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> !!!! again, i cannot stress this enough, but im so so proud and happy for hyunjun's debut. we could never know just how much he's truly worked for this, and as such we'd have to be thankful and show him our support!! [Hur Hyunjun: Baragi](https://youtu.be/NdKkAcy5xbI)
> 
> i took many liberties bc im not a volleyball player and so all scenes of actual gameplay came from watching vball contents only
> 
> (also if you had haikyuu flashbacks/mental images/general feels about this, i was rewatching all the seasons as i was writing this and haikyuu is where i actually took inspiration for this au.)
> 
> kudos, comments, theories appreciated!!!! [my twt!](https://mobile.twitter.com/jjukyus) [my curiouscat!](https://curiouscat.qa/kyuisms)


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